Denial
by Durga
Summary: Even during their wedding, Malus pretends. MalusCarrie, based after Carrie’s bad ending of Castlevania 64.


Disclaimer: Castlevania doesn't belong to me.

Response to Tazo's tag challenge and edited by Dreadnot.

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**Denial**

It was sunny and he hated the light – it was heating his pale cheeks, blinding his sight. He hated the fact there was not a cloud on the sky, not even a mere trace of gloominess to accompany the event that day.

Malus straightened his suit and wished the priest would hurry with the words; he wanted to kiss his bride soon, to feel her lips before they turned completely cold, and to capture the warmth that still lingered before it became a memory.

"I am here," Reinhardt told him, placing his huge hand on his shoulder. He was a thin man, a mere boy of eighteen, an insignificant orphan in the eyes of the villagers with no other talent than playing the violin. For the first time, Malus appreciated having a cursed Belmont so close, almost comforting.

_If he only knew_, he thought, glancing at the taller man, then looked down his bride. Despite the hideous gown she wore, Carrie looked stunning, the contrast of the flowers and her skin was alluring – how full and red her lips were, and how beautiful her hair looked with wild blossoms in her blue strands.

_She was so proud of that dress_, Malus chuckled, remembering the afternoons he spent at her side as she sewed her gown for their future.

"How was your day, Malus?" she used to ask, the very first being in a long time who cared about his welfare.

"Do you think I should add more colour to the white?" Carrie wondered about making modifications to the gown.

And they had strolled through the forest, walking hand by hand without fear. Malus promised to protect her always and she was able to defend herself without his aid. When she laughed, it was contagious. She made him mirthful, and what started as convenience soon became much more.

Malus forgot about his castle, his servants, his ambition and revenge. Carrie forgot about her bitterness, her loneliness, her enemies and her legacy. Both were contented to each other's presence, debating God's cruelty and seeking a way to make things better, despite their hunger and poverty, even if they were castaways because of her power.

Carrie kept sewing, faster and faster, eager to marry next season. When she prickled her fingers, he solicitously helped her to heal her wounds before pressing his lips to hers and holding her close.

Malus pretended to be just Malus. Because Carrie hated Dracula, and Dracula hated humans like Carrie. He forgot that dreams did not endure and people eventually woke up, he was mistaken to think that this denial would continue.

"The ceremony is over. Malus, are you all right?" Reinhardt sounded concerned; his voice reminded his of the present that Malus sought to deny. The rest of the guests were silent, not many have attended to the ceremony. They had feared her too much.

He was responsible for this. Reinhardt had taken him to train to become a vampire killer as he was. The man abandoned hopes of marrying after Rosa died. If Malus had remained at Carrie's side she would have been awoken from her nap.

She would have not been murdered in her sleep by the fearful villagers who saw her power growing.

Malus did not reply to Reinhardt, merely leaned down and kissed her lips. She was unresponsive, but he could pretend she embraced him and returned his passion. He could weave a reality in which she was living and at his side as it should have been, that the ceremony they were celebrating was their wedding and not the traditional wedding funeral for unmarried maidens.

In his mind, he was laughing and smiling – there were not hot tears trailing from his cheeks, dripping on her mouth, the last remains of her fading warmth.

He could pretend he was still Malus, the orphan violinist who was unremarkable aside from his musical abilities. He could pretend he was not Dracula, burning again with a desire for vengeance against God and his mocking sunny days for her burial and the people that had taken his beloved twice. But he was tired of this denial.

From now on, Dracula would pretend that Malus did not exist and that his time spent with Carrie was all but a delusion of his mind, starved by the loss of Lisa. And he would feign to be unaware that he was still crying as Castlevania rose again and he stained the town with blood.

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Author's Notes: It's traditional for girls of those areas to sew their own wedding gowns. Also, it's an old tradition that the maiden who die in age of marriage are wed in their funerals. 


End file.
